


Disappointments

by Bughedd



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Anger, Blood and Violence, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Temporary Amnesia, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-08 16:32:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14109468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bughedd/pseuds/Bughedd
Summary: A mysterious woman shows up to the front door of the Wyrm bleeding and crying out for help, only to wake the next day with an unusual jacket and no recollection of her life. Can Jughead piece together the mysteries of the woman's past to find her attacker or will he find out why she was attacked in the process.





	1. Love Lies Lifeless

Betty held pressure to her lower abdomen as her feet drug toward the building, her vision grew blurred by the second as she feared she would lose consciousness before she reached the door to the biker bar only a few feet from where she slowly moved. "Help!" She called, but her voice was a mere whisper as blood warmly trickled between her fingers at every shuffle forward. 

Somehow, maybe by the grace of God, she made it to the door and pawed at the door handle, too weak to grasp it but close enough to not give up as she weakly rapped her hand against the door. She was hopeful that someone would be in the bar i n the early hours of the morning, that someone would be able to help her as she had no idea where she was and how she would get to a hospital. 

The noises were loud enough to gain the attention of one of the taller, darker haired men in the bar and he rushed to the door to check out the commotion. As he opened the door, Betty fell forward, unconscious and bleeding from the wound to her abdomen, her body strewn across the man's feet as he looked down upon her in horror. " I need a little help over here!" He called, tone evidently panicked as he attempted to lift the woman into the bar. He was soon met with the help of another man in the bar, someone who moved to lend a helping hand to get the woman to the pool table and sprawled out to assess the situation. 

The wound was a laceration and a deep one at that, the type of wound that he knew had come from a knife and dealt by someone who wanted the woman to suffer, to practically crawl through the streets in agony and if she was lucky, she would have been found or died quickly. 

Jughead, the Serpent prince stood watch over the woman after she had been sewn up by their "Doc," his eyes never off of her as she recovered in the back of the bar on a drab green couch. He sat opposite her in a chair, arms rested on his thighs as he counted the rise and fall of her chest, a blue blanket draped over the unconscious woman as she recovered.

The woman wore a leather jacket and one similar to their own jackets, but the insignia on the back displayed a proud panther, a snarling panther that demanded respect as it perched on the coat rack near the couch. Who was the mystery woman and who had abandoned her in Riverdale to fight for her life? 

~~~

The bright rays of the morning sun filtered in through the curtains in the bar, the bars shining brightly over the woman's eyes as she startled with a jolt. She bolted upright and immediately winced and cursed under her breath at the pain, eyes narrowed as she surveyed the room. She spotted a sleeping man across from her and slowly attempted to move, to gather her things before the man could wake but she moved a bit too quickly and whimpered out in pain, the noise unintentional. 

Jughead woke with a startle and stood quickly, his own brain trying to assess the situation while literally and figuratively on his feet. " Hey, hey. You're fine. You were hurt." He offered innocently and extended out his open palms to show her that he was an unarmed, innocent non-threat. " Someone stabbed you pretty badly, but we got you stitched up." He added quickly, a weak, warm smile tugged at his lips as he kept his distance from the woman. He knew it must be unnerving to wake in a strange place with no memory, but his concern fell to her wound and if she continued to panic, she would undoubtedly tear the stitches.

Betty was confused, the previous night a blur as she moved her hands to rest over the gauze and medical tape on her abdomen, where she gently applied pressure before wincing once again, her head tilted downward to look at the aftermath of what the man had mentioned. " Where am I? Do you know me?" She questioned, tone full of concern and question as she remained seated on the edge of the couch, eyes searching as her hands felt over her abdomen absently.

The man didn't know her, in fact didn't even recognize the insignia on her jacket, which led him to believe that wherever she was from was far away and someone went out of their way to get rid of her, but why? " I'm sorry, I don't. You're in Riverdale, if that helps." He offered hopefully but the further confusion on her face confirmed that the information didn't help at all and probably made her confusion much worse. 

" My name is Betty, I know that much." She offered weakly as she groaned and placed her hands to her face, her insides feeling as rough as her outside appearance looked. " The rest is a blur." She added sheepishly. Having no memory was terrifying, how she wound up in a strange town on a strange couch and she couldn't even remember the most intimate details of her own life. She wouldn't have wished the outcome on her worst enemies, which she seemed to have at least one by the way her abdomen felt. 

The words were haunting and sad as she spoke them and Jughead couldn't help but pity the woman, pity that she had been hurt and left for dead in a town she didn't know and by people who evidently knew her from somewhere far away. Jughead took a cautious step forward and offered her a warm smile as he sighed. " Well Betty, I'm Jughead and I just so happen to love a good mystery." He stated matter-of-factly. 

Betty couldn't help but scoff as she attempted to lie back down on the couch, the material uncomfortable as it scratched and stuck to the medical tape, but she supposed it was better than a wooden coffin 6 feet under.


	2. Territories Unknown

The morning that followed the woman waking up on a mysterious couch in an even more mysterious bar left more questions than answers, her identity still a mystery and her injury an even larger one as anxiety over the woman seemed to loom over the heads of the Serpents. Would she bring the temple down on all of their heads, was it a trap to get close to their King? 

" Do you have a wallet of any sort? Check your pockets. " jughead commanded as he and the mysterious woman moved to sit at the bar, his feet brought up to rest on the metal railing of the stool as the woman searched her coat and pants pockets against the stook opposite of him. " I have this." The woman murmured as she retrieved a plastic ID card from her leather jacket pocket and handed it cautiously to the man across from her. She was relieved to find it, but worried now that she had handed it over to a stranger, that the questions she had were left in the capable hands of a man she just met, a man who could very well harm her.

Jughead's eyes slowly scanned over the facts on the identification card. She had a name, Betty Cooper and they knew she was from the northern town of Sutherville, but they didn't know how she made her way down to Riverdale, how her home was an easy 2 hours away and she wound up in the parking lot of the Wyrm. " The best course of action is to go. Ready to ride?" He mused as he patted his pocket for his keys and offereda winning smile.

Betty clasped her hands together in a ball over Jughead's stomach, her manicured fingernails shining bright purple against the morning sun as he kick started the motorcycle and the engine growled to life. 

The scenery to Sutherville was plush and green, trees standing tall with mossy stripes, abundant wildlife, all while they moved along the coast toward truth and freedom, toward answers that they desperately sought. Neither were sure that they would get the closure they sought out, her problems as abundant as the wind that whipped through her hair, but for the first time since waking up on the strange couch, she felt safe and secure.

The small town of Sutherville slept in the early morning hours, very few people out and about as the black motorcycle cruised up and down the quiet streets of Sutherville. In another world, another life the town would be quaint, would maybe even be somewhere Jughead would be curious about, but now he was convinced that now the town held darker secrets than what he anticipated, that Sutherville was simply the means to an end.

The house on the identification card lay ramshackle and abandoned, windows boarded up and front door hanging askew from one hinge, a sign that didn't exactly welcome the duo inside, but curiosity got the best of the two as they both climbed off of the motorcycle and approached the front three stairs with caution, cracks in the cement warding them away. 

The inside had been a nest for squatters, or at least she could only hope as she kicked her way through the plastic bottles and wrappers with her dark boots, eyes scanning over the tagged walls and holes left in the wood flooring. It was a nightmare of a house, but the house had been listed as her address on her ID and it was the only lead they had as they made their way up the stairs, the creaking and groaning of the wood the only sound to be heard in the eerie building. 

The upstairs faired no better as doors were missing from their hinges, windows boarded up with plywood or missing completely, their footsteps crunching atop broken glass as Betty moved to the far room and knelt down before a brown, wooden box. The box was no larger than a cigar box, in fact it may have been one at some point and she carefully took the box into her hands. She immediately felt faint, felt a dizzy spell wash over her as something, a memory perhaps, tried to get in the way. Despite her awful feeling, the lightness in her head, she opened the box anyway and removed the contents with a shaky hand. 

Pictures often told a thousand words, but what about pictures that were unfamiliar and out of focus? She could recognize a few photos as being photos of herself, but none of them made sense as she filtered through them, frustration evident by the scowl on her face as she neared the last few photos. The last photo in the stack featured Betty in her jacket, proudly standing next to a few other jacketed men and one particular man with an arm draped around her. The man looked menacing as he smiled, a possessive body language as he stood by her. 

Betty dropped the pictures in a frenzy, eyes stinging at the threat of tears as she pushed herself away from the box and photographs, her noises frantic as she was overcome with fear, feet kicking desperately to get away from the box and its contents.

Jughead returned from the room next door, footprints loud as she attempted to calm her breathing. " Bet you pay a hefty powe- hey! What's wrong?" He questioned, his jeer quickly turned to panic as he moved to kneel at her side, arms extended to help her to her feet. " We have to go! We have to leave now, please. Just get on the motorcycle and go!" She pleaded, words no longer strong and convincing as they were pleading and broken. She knew the man in the picture, knew who he was and in that moment that her hands touched the cigar box, she remembered the way the cold steel of his knife cut through her abdomen as he pushed her out of his truck and left her to die. 

Betty had long since ran from the house, stood outside of the house and bent over, heaving, retching sounds were the only noises within earshot as Jughead collected the cigar box and tucked it under his arm as he followed behind Betty and out of the abandoned building.

He let Betty have the privacy needed to finish, his back against his motorcycle, box rested against the leather seat as she approached, looking worse for wear. " You gonna tell me what had you so spooked?" He questioned, the tone light and curious as he attempted to read her expression. 

Betty had fear written on her face, eyes wide and body pushing forward as she approached the bike. " We have to leave now. If we don't leave, you're in for the gang war of your life." He stated softly, clearly terrified as she reluctantly picked up the box and held it as she waited for him to mount the bike. She felt as if her body was frozen, that a piece of her life that she had tried to keep hidden came to the surface to warn her to stay away. 

When they pulled away, Betty hoped she would be leaving Sutherville in the rearview mirror, that she would never look back and start anew, but little did she know that they were not alone in the house, that a mounted motorcycle followed from a distance back to Riverdale.


End file.
